


The Dollar Bill Job

by Pennyplainknits



Category: Leverage
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-02
Updated: 2010-03-02
Packaged: 2017-10-07 16:17:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/66852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennyplainknits/pseuds/Pennyplainknits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The team help out a friend of Sophie's when her nightclub is under threat. Or, every fandom needs Stripper!Fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dollar Bill Job

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer** Leverage created by Dean Devlin and John Rogers. This is a work of transformative fiction and no infringement is intended  
> **Notes** I started this way back, but only just got it finished. Really, I just wanted Eliot in tiny shorts. Set sometime in the first half of S2- Sophie is still on the team. Huge thanks to [](http://nicolasechs.livejournal.com/profile)[**nicolasechs**](http://nicolasechs.livejournal.com/) for brainstorming and encouragement, and to [](http://queenklu.livejournal.com/profile)[**queenklu**](http://queenklu.livejournal.com/) for beta and squee.

"Ok Sophie, what have you got for us that's so important this early on a weekend?" Nate asked, looking cranky. Alec passed across the Starbucks cup; sheesh, talk about switching addictions.

"Yes" said Parker, who, for some inexplicable reason was wearing waders. "I was in the middle of something."

"What?" Alec asked. She had a strand of waterweed clinging to her shoulder, and he watched as Eliot gently pulled it off and looked at it, confused.

"Just, something," she said.

"A dear friend of mine," Sophie began, and they all groaned.

"Does anyone remember the last job we took that started like that?" Alec asked. "Butcher of Kiev ring any bells?"

"The hors'd'ouevres were good." Parker said, and Alec smiled despite himself at Eliot's badly hidden grin.

"Guys!" Sophie admonished. "Focus."

"Carry on Sophie," Nate said wearily.

"As I said, a friend of mine owns a small nightclub. Built it up from scratch, all by herself," Sophie pressed the remote for the screen, and a photo of the club appeared.

"Hades?" Nate asked, clearly recognising it, "Your friend owns Hades?"

"What's Hades?" Parker asked.

"A club," Sophie explained.

"A strip bar," Nate corrected. He sounded dismissive.

"They're _dancers_ Nate," Sophie said reproachfully. "And she has live music, stand-up comedy, open mic nights. It's a _nightclub_."

"With naked chicks," Eliot said, sounding too amused.

"With _dancers_. Talented dancers, who Tish looks after and pays a decent wage, and do you know how dangerous it is to be a dancer in most of those places?" Sophie snapped. "Hades is safe, friendly. Or at least, it used to be."

"What happened?" Alec asked.

"Tish came to me two weeks ago, saying that she thought someone was trying to muscle in on her club. Men coming around at odd times of day, taking photographs of the outside. Then, last week, she got an offer for the bar."

"Was she looking to sell?" Nate asked, but Eliot suddenly sat up straighter.

"The docklands development. It's in the middle of it."

"Exactly!" Sophie said triumphantly. "The whole area is up for redevelopment, and Mr 'I'm a big Shot' Sanderson doesn't want a bar in the middle of his overpriced condos."

"So she said no?" Parker said. She reached behind Alec and grabbed some of his corn chips, her arm resting against his as she ate.

"Yes. Then stuff started to happen. The Police raided the place, saying they'd got a tip drugs were being dealt there. Acts kept cancelling. One liquor supplier said they couldn't deal with them any more. And then, yesterday, she called me in a panic from the hospital." Sophie clicked the remote again, and a picture filled the screen.

"Shit," Alec swore quietly. He mentally apologised to his Nana, but thought she might have forgiven him.

The pen Eliot had been twirling snapped as he gripped it.

"This is Petal. She used to dance for the Met Ballet before she said the pressure got too much. Three guys cornered her in the parking lot. She's got concussion, a broken wrist, stitches. They said next time, they'd go for the knees. And they wouldn't stop there."

Sophie's voice was flat, all dramatics cast aside in favour of barely contained anger.

"So, why doesn't she go to the police?" Nate asked.

Parker snorted with laughter. "Yeah, like _that'll_ work."

"She's a woman, who owns what you referred to as a strip club. Sure, the cops'll get their jollies there, but you're more naive than I thought if you think they'll go out of their way to protect a bunch of girls half of them think are no better than hookers," Sophie spat.

"Sanderson owns half of the politicians in the city," Eliot growled. He reached for Alec's pencil and picked it up, twirling it.

"Hey man, stop that," Alec hissed, clamping his hand on Eliot's forearm. Eliot flexed the muscle.

"Get off me,"

"Give me my pencil back, I don't want you snapping it."

Eliot pulled a face, and jerked the pencil away when Alec reached for it. It was just about to degenerate into a slap fight when Nate cleared his throat.

"Hardsion!"

"He started it!" Alec pointed out.

"Ok, so no police." Nate said, glaring at both of them. "So, what do you suggest?"

"Tish thinks that Sanderson's men are targeting her acts, and her dancers. Putting the frighteners on them. Sanderson's been in the club every night, cozying up to the burlesque girls. Offering to save the club for 'favours'. I think we can use it."

"How?" Nate asked.

"Because Sanderson's money isn't his. It's his wife's."

Sophie bought up a photo of a woman with wavy black hair.

"Sonia Sanderson. She's the money. And, rumour has it, she's had just about enough of his womanising. We get evidence of Sanderson and his suggestions, could be just enough to push her over the edge."

"Fine," Nate said. "We get someone inside the club, do a bit of surveillance, no problem. They're short a dancer, Sophie, you can-"

"No. I can't." Sophie said flatly. "Sanderson knows me."

Privately, Alec thought it was just as well. if her dancing was good as her singing they'd be made in no time.

"Parker-no," Nate said, as Parker shot him a glare. "We want him still able to walk."

"Well," Sophie said, with the smile that stole the Second David. "Hades has burlesque dancers....but it also has _boylesque_ dancers."

"Boylesque....? No! Hell no, no way!" Alec said, suddenly seeing what she was getting at.

"No, we need you to monitor the video," Nate said almost absently.

"No fucking way!" Eliot swore, getting to his feet "I'm not shaking my ass up there for everyone to see!"

Well, there was an image, Alec thought, not sure if it was hilarious, or...something else.

Nate's hand landed heavily on Eliot's shoulder.

"For the job, Eliot. You want this to get worse?" He clicked back to the photo of Petal.

"Just think man," Alec said, unable to resist. "You might even make a bit extra on the side."

"In singles," Parker snickered, and that was all it took for both of them to dissolve in peals of laughter as Eliot glared at them all.

 

***

The surveillance camera proved to be a bit of a challenge. Normally, Alec would have used the standard button camera (and of course, by standard, he meant light years beyond what you could get in the shops, he had his pride, after all) but the fact of it was, Eliot wouldn't be wearing enough to put the buttons _ on_.

Still, he thought he'd come up with a solution.

"No, Eliot! You need to create an intimacy with the audience! Parker, show him that flip again."

Sophie's voice, sounding irritated, floated down the corridor.

"Problems?" Alec asked, poking his head round the door.

Eliot moved into his line of vision, and the good natured burn Alec had ready died on his tongue.

He liked to think he appreciated form and design. The lines of an X-wing. A good cooling system. The intricate beauty of a circuit board.

Eliot was form and power combined. He knew this. Those muscles had saved all their asses more time than he wanted to think about. But he didn't usually _see_ them. Eliot wore a cutaway muscle shirt, and snugly fitting shorts. His hair was tied back. The muscles of his arms were each sharply defined, and the sweat-soaked shirt clung to him so tightly he might as well not have been wearing them. There were scars, on his powerful thigh muscles, a small, round bullet hole on one bicep, and Alec suddenly wanted to know the stories behind them.

"And how is our dancing darling?" Alec said, gathering his thoughts.

Eliot gave him the 'I can kill you with a Key Lime Pie' look. "Pissed off!"

"He's having a _little_ trouble," Sophie began.

"He sucks." Parker said. "He can't even do this." And she did one of her complicated flip and spin things, graceful as a dancer herself. Maybe she was; who knew?

"See!" Eliot gestured, wiping his forehead with the wristband on his left wrist. "Why can't Parker do it?"

"You can do this!" Sophie said, ignoring him. "Imagine you're trying to seduce them, but tease them at the same time."

"It's just movements, right?" Alec said, trying to head off the explosion. "Imagine they're, what do you call the thing you taught me, katas."

Eliot squared his shoulders, the muscles flexing, shimmering under the sheen of sweat. "OK."

"Try again, follow Parker," Sophie said, starting the music.

"Start with the weight on the left foot," Parker said softly. "2, 3, 4." And they moved into the pattern again, a twist, a spin, a back flip, finishing side by side, Parker looking straight at him, Eliot, head ducked, his hair falling out of its tie. Both graceful, powerful, Parker sleek and all in black, light as gossamer.

"Better," she said, pulling Eliot to his feet. "Try again." She sat down next to Alec, and stretched her legs out.

"Hardison, have you got the camera?" Sophie asked suddenly.

"Here," Alec said, unfolding the arms of the eyeglasses. He put them on Eliot's nose, brushing his hair away to make sure they were hooked firmly over his ears. "Camera's in the bridge. Anything you look directly at, I can see." He could feel the heat radiating off of Eliot, and stepped back suddenly.

"Oooh, I like it," Sophie said, "They'll go well with your costume, very Clark Kent. Now, try again, without Parker. And remember: it's a seduction. Your audience has to _want_ you."

"No problem with that," Parker muttered, and shot Alec a look that said she knew he thought exactly the same thing.

***

Sophie's 'dear friend' turned out to be a stunning redhead, although Alec would definitely not have gotten on her bad side; she was kind of terrifying as well.

"We can't use regular mics here," Alec explained as he altered the angle of the security camera that covered the bar, "because there's too much ambient noise."

"Then how will you get the evidence?" Tish demanded "Sophie said you guys were going to get evidence to show Sanderson's wife."

"Ms Lowell," Nate said soothingly, "you don't need to worry."

"Like hell I don't!" Tish interrupted. "Hades is all I've got and that asswipe is going to take it away from me if you guys don't-"

"Tish, sweetheart," Sophie said, putting her hand on Tish's arm, "We're going to have someone on the inside to film Sanderson, remember?"

"Who? Sanderson _knows_ you."

Sophie turned to Parker, who was busy making a tower of shot glasses.

"Parker, can you see if our star performer is ready please?"

Parker snorted, and disappeared through the door that lead to the dancer's dressing rooms.

"Eliot will be wearing a camera and a small mic," Sophie explained. "All he needs to do is get close enough to Sanderson.

"I'm still not sure," Tish said. "This guy of yours-"

There was the sound of a scuffle and some hissed insults before Parker prodded a glowering Eliot through the door ahead of her.

"Is completely convincing," Tish finished, sounding a little breathless.

Alec's jaw dropped at what Eliot was _wearing_. Sophie had said 'costume' which conjured up vague images of feathers and spangles. This...wasn't what he had expected. Eliot's hair was loose around his shoulders, though he still wore a few braids with small wooden beads at the end. The black glasses were perched on his nose, but they looked geek-chic, rather than just plain geek. And then Alec let his gaze drop.

Eliot had lost the battle for shirt. Instead he wore a plain black vest open over his bare torso, pecs and biceps curved and strong. And then, below that, the _tiniest_ pair of mesh boxer briefs Alec had ever seen. _Damn_.

"He wouldn't let me finish the costume," Parker complained, holding up a bottle. "You're supposed to _shimmer_."

"Get that the hell away from me," Eliot said, sliding away from her. Sophie grabbed his wrist.

"Tish, Eliot."

"Absolutely my pleasure," Tish all but purred.

"Ma'am," Eliot said, doing his wholesome-country-boy-charm-thing. Tish practically _melted_.

Typical, Alec thought, and went back to checking the camaras.

 

***

"Really, you couldn't air the van out a little?" Sophie waved her hand in front of her nose and pulled a face. "Open a window?"

"Respect the van," Alec said absently, as he looked at the feed for the camera over the bar.

"I'd just rather be in there," Sophie said, sliding up next to him to study the screen. "I'm worried about him."

In the front seat Parker snorted as she crunched her Doritos.

"You'll get crumbs _everywhere_" Alec complained. "Sophie, it's _Eliot_. He once took out a guy with a paperclip."

"Yes, but," Sophie gestured at the screen again. "There's a bachelorette party in tonight. And they look all hands."

Alec flinched as a crowed of rowdy women started cheering and reaching out to touch Eliot, hooting and clapping as he climbed onstage. Eliot ducked his head down so his hair covered his face.

"Dead. All of you," he growled over the comm. And then he started to dance.

Sophie crunched her popcorn avidly and Parker scrambled forward elbowed her way in between them to watch. Alec zoned out a bit on the gleam of mood lighting on curves of muscle, the way Eliot's thigh muscles flexed in the jumps, before he remembered the was supposed to be looking for Sanderson, and switched the screens to four-in-one view.

"Hey! Put it back!" Parker ordered, and punched him in the arm.

"Hardison! Those bachelorettes look dangerous! We should watch them!" Sophie said, using the cooing voice she used for marks.

Alec sighed, and switched the screen back.

***

"Nothing? All night?! Nate demanded the next morning.

Eliot ran a hand though his hair, producing a shower of glitter. The bachelorette party had been- enthusiastic. Alec had had nightmares.

"Nothing," he confirmed, and took a pull of his beer.

"Little early, isn't it Eliot?" Sophie asked reproachfully.

"No." Eliot said flatly. "My ass is black and blue. They kept _pinching_ me."

Parker sniggered quietly as she poured apple juice over her breakfast cereal.

"Can't blame them," she whispered to Alec.

"Look," Alec said, "as soon as we noticed we called the bouncers over."

He'd been a bit mesmerised. He hadn't thought kicking people's asses for a living would give you that much flexibility.

"Did you get anywhere with Sonia?" Sophie asked in the heavy silence that followed.

"Couldn't get past the front door," Nate admitted. "We're going to need some solid evidence before she even speaks to us, which means," he clapped Eliot on the shoulder; Eliot shrugged the hand off and scooted closer to Alec. "You get to give a repeat performance."

"There's only so much I can cover," Eliot pointed out. "It's not like I'm on stage all night. Tish made me take a hour's break."

"For his own safety," Alec put in, trying to keep a straight face.

"Fine," Nate said. "Parker, you're in. Bartender."

"Do I get to pinch Eliot's ass too?"

"NO!" Alec and Eliot said at once.

***

The club was even busier the second night. Parker's mic picked up snatches of conversation over the constant roar of background noise, but seldom enough to be useful. Eliot slouched at the bar, in jeans and a tank top , chatting up Parker in between fending off women, and a few men, with a forced smile. Just when Alec was seeing pain in the future of one particularly persistent guy, Tish announced the evening's dancers, and Eliot slid off the stool with a nod.

"Eliot, look sharp," Nate said over the comm.

"Copied," Eliot said, draining his soda and passing the glass across to Parker. "Gotta go change, I'm up in ten. Any sign of him yet?"

"Not yet," Alec said, double checking all the feeds. Eliot winked at Parker, and strutted away, already getting into character.

Music starting thudding tinnily over the mics as the first dancer, a lively blonde who juggled fire, took to the stage.

"Wait," Sophie said suddenly, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Is that, there, by the bar?"

Alec focused in the camera, but Nate was already saying,

"Parker, end of the bar. Purple tie."

"Got him," she said.

Sanderson stood leaning against the bar, talking intently to one of the dancers. He gripped her elbow tight and put the other hand into his inside coat pocket. She shook her head urgently and took a half step back.

"Parker..." Nate said warningly. "What's he offering her?"

"Ok," She said. She filled a highball with ice, cranberry juice and vodka and hurried over

"Sir," she said, holding out the glass. "Jamie asked me to give you this. Sea Breeze, right?"

"She's here?" Sanderson looked around, and the other dancer took the opportunity to escape.

"She's on later," Parker said. She held out the glass, but fumbled it, and splashed the whole glass over him.

"Oh sir! Sorry!" She patted him down with the towel from her apron, wiping all over his shirt and jacket.

"I'm Ok. Leave it! I'm fine!" Sanderson hissed, and he stalked angrily to the stage.

"What did you get, Parker?" Nate asked.

Parker turned her back to the bar and spread out her haul on the prep area.

"Lighter. Condoms, phone. And these."

She held up the four small ziplocs to the camera over the bar. "Meth, oh, and roofies."

"Charming," Sophie said tightly.

"That's how they get into the club," Nate said. "Great, Sophie, go meet Parker at the back door, get the phone, and we'll see if Sanderson has any more secrets."

"Can't you go?" Sophie asked. She shoved Alec aside to get to the screens. "Eliot's almost on."

"And?" Nate glared at the both, as if Alec had said something as well.

"And, I need to see him! I mean, to make sure he's doing it right," Sophie said quickly, eyes wide and innocent.

"Why are you and Parker suddenly so interested in Eliot dancing?" Nate grumbled. Alec was slightly relieved Nate hadn't included him in the complaint.

Sophie shook her head as if she couldn't believe he was being so dumb.

"We have _eyes_, Nate."

Alec turned attention away from the latest round of Nate-and-Sophie's Issues, and back to the screen. He was just in time to see Eliot _slink_ out onto the stage. Today's unfeasibly tiny shorts were a dark blue, and he had evidently lost the battle as far as glitter was concerned. It shimmered along his collarbone, bought his biceps out in sharp relief. Alec felt his throat go dry at the swell and flex of thigh muscles as Eliot dropped into a crouch. If Nate hadn't noticed, he was less observant than Alec gave him credit for.

"Fine," Nate said testily. "Hardison, you-"

"Hey, I gotta, monitor the, you know, the thing," Alec said hastily.

"I'll go myself," Nate growled, and Alec heard him slam the van door behind him.

"I think I liked him better when he was drinking," Sophie said.

In the club, the lights dimmed and brightened.

"OK Eliot," Alec said into the mic. "We know Sanderson's in, so keep your eyes peeled."

He expected a crabby answer along the lines of 'don't tell me how to do my job Hardison', but instead got nothing but a hiss and crackle of static.

"Hardison," Sophie prompted.

"I'm trying," he said, trying the channel again, but there was nothing but snap. crackle and pop. This was bad.

"At least the cameras are still working?" Sophie said, looking at where Eliot was dancing with Jamie, twisting round her, and still managing to scan the audience.

"Eliot. Eliot!" Alec tried again, but there was still nothing.

"Better come up with something quick," Sophie said, pointing to the screen where Sanderson had just take his seat at one of the small tables right at the edge of the stage.

"Eliot, get Sanderson on film as soon as you can," Nate said, climbing back into the van. "Sonia Sanderson's had about enough from the sound of her, she just needs a little something to tip her over the edge."

"No good, Nate," Alec said. "Comm's down. I blame the _glitter_." He glared at Sophie.

"Parker?" Nate said.

"I can't get over there," she said, sounding harrassed. "There are...people."

"Get in there Sophie," Nate ordered.

"Sanderson'll run if he sees me," Sophie argued. "And it's not like Eliot can't look after himself."

"Not the point. Hardison,"

"Already on it," Alec said, and slid out of his seat.

"Sophie, you know how to change the cameras?" he asked, tugging on a shirt over his t-shirt and buttoning it up.

Glaring at him, she extracted a half-eaten hot pocket from down the back of the seat.

"Does it involve junk food?" she said, holding it out in disgust.

"Sophie-" Nate began exasperatedly.

"I know, I know," Sophie said. "Go on Hardison."

"Just keep the camera onstage," Alec said, pocketing a spare ear bud and another bug, in case.

The bouncer recognised him and waved him in. The sound of the club hit him as he pushed his way through the crowds at the bar to Parker.

"He's still there," she said, polishing a glass.

"I know, he said. "I've just got to get close enough to switch Eliot's earbud. Just in case."

"How are you going to do that?" Parker asked, looking confused.

Alec held up a hundred dollar bill.

"Got change?"

Parker looked at him, and slowly grinned.

"Lucky you."

***

"OK Alec, you can do this," Alec gave himself a short pep talk as he got close enough to the stage. He just had to hope that Eliot's professionalism would have him playing along, or at least saving the inevitable complaining for later. He folded and unfolded the $10 bill in his hand nervously.

On stage, the dancers were winding up, Jamie being held up in the air by Eliot without any apparent effort whatsoever, before being lowered back down. This close, Alec could see Eliot was sweating under the heavy lights, the tips of his hair damp with it, running in rivulets down his neck and into the collar of the mesh tank top he was wearing. Alec sat at one of the crowded tables and joined the rest of the patrons in waving bills in the air. The dancers didn't have to get off the stage, but he knew most of them did, liking the extra money, and trusting the bouncers to stop anything getting out of hand. He saw Sanderson shove another guy aside roughly as Jamie, wearing a fake-looking smile, stepped gracefully down off the stage.

"Hey," Alec called out, waving his ten at Eliot, and cocking his head to the side. Eliot's eyes narrowed, but he prowled over and put his hand on Alec's shoulder to whisper in his ear.

"Ten dollars? Not that cheap Hardison,"

"You're comm's not working," Alec said, "Just shut up and sit down so I can change it."

Eliot grunted, but swung one leg over and plopped into Alec's lap, thigh muscles tensed to hold him above his crotch.

"Cozy," Alec said, trying to sound normal when faced with the heat of Eliot right up close, the smudges of glitter along his shoulders, and the way his sweaty hair clung to his neck. He fumbled the earbud out of his pocket.

"Sanderson's with Jamie," Eliot whispered, his lips brushing Alec's ear. Alec thought he heard a small annoyed noise over the comm, but he couldn't tell if it was from Sophie or Parker. He suppressed a shiver.

"Can you film him?" he asked, He stroked Eliot's hair away from his ear to find the earbud and Eliot leaned briefly into his hand.

Interesting.

"I need to move to get a clear picture," Eliot said.

"Better idea," Alec said. He took the glasses off, trying to look like a client who wanted a better look at the hot dancer in his lap, and angled them on the table.

"That work?" he asked. He couldn't turn his head to look without dislodging Eliot.

Eliot craned a bit, and his foot slipped so he was actually _sitting_ in Alec's lap, pressed up against him. _Tight_ up against him, in those tiny shorts that left nothing much to the imagination. Alec took a breath and started mentally listing the production team for the Hartnell Doctor Who episodes.

Eliot chuckled quietly.

"Work's fine," he said. "He's all over her." And then he moved his hips in a small circle, slowly, tortuously, almost as an afterthought.

"What are you-" Alec asked, embarrassed at how choked he sounded.

"Selling the part Hardison," Eliot said, matter of factly. He made another circle, and dipped his head onto Alec's shoulder. Alec could smell his hair. Jasmine, which was, very un-Eliot.

"Why do you smell of flowers?" he said, without thinking. In his ear, Parker let out a bark of laughter.

"It stops it tangling," Eliot said. "Shut up." He moved again, grinding against him, and soon enough Little Alec was going to want to get in on the action.

"Oh, lips are sealed," Alec said, trying not to giggle.

"Hardison, if you've finished getting your jollies," Sophie said reproachfully in his ear.

"Oh," Alec said, "OK, I'm just gonna change this." He flicked out the broken comm and put the new one in, hand lingering for a second on Eliot's neck.

"Can you hear us?" Nate asked.

Eliot moved one hand off Alec's shoulder- and how had that gotten there?-and touched his ear. Alec rolled his eyes, Eliot just couldn't seem to break the habit.

"Loud and clear," he said.

"Sanderson bought drugs in tonight. See if he offered any to anyone. If you've quite finished."

"On it,"Eliot said, voice all business. He gave one more slow, teasing shimmy and slid off Alec's lap.

"Hey," Alec said, beckoning him forward. He folded the $10 into quarters and tucked it into the waistband of Eliot's shorts. His stomach muscles twitched as the backs of Alec's fingers brushed against him.

"Still say I'm worth more," Eliot said, before he slipped his glasses back on and slunk away into the crowd.

"Hardison, get back in here," Nate ordered.

"I could stay, in case," Alec said, watching as a group of women surrounded Eliot, giggling and stroking his arms.

"Back here," Nate said, sounding clipped.

"Fine," Alec said. He got up and all but ran into Sanderson, who dropped his beer. In his ear he heard Sophie catch her breath.

"Hey, man, I'm sorry," Alec said. "Let me get you a drink," he patted him down, but Parker had been pretty thorough, not much left to lift other than his wallet, which was too risky. Still, he slipped the bug into his pocket. They might get something useful.

"It's fine," Sanderson said.

"No man, I insist."

"I said it's _fine_." Sanderson shoved him out of the way and stalked to the door.

"You plant it?" Nate said.

"Yeah. On my way back in, let's see what we get." Alec nodded to Parker as he passed the bar. She mouthed _lucky_ at him, though whether it was for the plant or the dance, he didn't know.

***

"Have we got enough?" Nate asked.

Alec swivelled round in his chair.

"Between the video, the bug, and what Eliot got from the dancers, I'd say we've got plenty." He hit save.

"Where is Eliot?" Parker asked. She leant over Alec's shoulder to watch the screen, and Alec smelled the same jasmine scent as he hair brushed his shoulder. Somehow the idea of Eliot and Parker exchanging hair care tips wasn't funny so much as-something else.

"In the shower," Sophie said, sipping her coffee. "Honestly, it's only a bit of glitter. When I played Elphaba I was green everywhere! For weeks!"

Nate just shrugged and pressed the call button on his phone.

"Sonia Sanderson? Harry Lime. yeah, we spoke earlier. Sorry to wake you, but I have something I'll think you'll be interested in. Yes, about your husband. Do you know Hades nightclub? My associates and I will meet you there tomorrow morning. 11am."

"Well?" Eliot asked, coming out of the bathroom toweling his hair. He wore his normal jeans and henley, but it was no good now, Alec realised. Now he'd _always_ be wearing tiny shorts and not much else in his mind.

"She's hooked." Nate said grinning.

"I hope she takes him to the _cleaners_" Sophie said vehemently.

She was a little scary sometimes, Alec thought.

***

Hades by daylight looked shabby, paint begining to chip in places, and the velour of the drapes wearing thin. Tish stirred her tea and laid the spoon down with a clink. Next to her, Parker took a bite of-

"Is that pie?" Alec asked.

"Key Lime," she replied, licking the fork.

"It's 11am," he said.

"So?"

Alec shook his head. He supposed he should be used to her weird eating habits by now.

"It's a whole pie," he said, unable to help himself.

"Yes," she said, then took another bite.

"Hardison, is it all set up?" Nate asked.

"Just give me the word," Alec said, holding up the the remote. There was a screen over the bar that sometimes showed sports. Crappy picture quality, but it would have to do. Nate's phone rang.

"Sonia," he said. "Yes, I'll send one of my associates out to meet you."

Sophie slid off her stool and headed for the door. She returned minutes later with the same dark-haired woman they'd seen in the photos.

"Which one of you is Harry Lime?" she asked. "And what the hell do you think you're doing, accusing my husband?"

"Mrs Sanderson," Nate began. "I know you suspect something. You're too intelligent a woman not to wonder about your husband's late nights and business trips. Wonder if there's something else going on."

Sonia sat on a bar stool.

"Who are these people?" she asked.

"This is Tish," Nate introduced her. "She owns this place."

"And?" Sonia asked. "I know Mark's no angel, but he's not _bad_. He wouldn't cheat, not really."

"Do you really believe that?" Sophie asked gently. "I know, sometimes your pride doesn't let you admit to making a mistake. But sometimes, you need a push to make yourself admit things are over."

Alec winced at the look on Nate's face, and Eliot shook his head at him.

"Your _husband_," Tish spat "has been threatening me for _months_. He had one of my dancers beaten up. He's threatened my suppliers. He's done it with _your_ money."

"I don't-" Sonia began.

"Just watch," Nate said. "Hardison."

Alec pressed play. Images flashed up on the screen. Sanderson pawing the model at the bar, the look of disgust on her face barely disguised. Sanderson jerking Jamie onto his lap, running his hands up her thighs to tuck bill after bill into her waistband. Whispering into her ear. Offering her a drink. Refusing to let her go, trying to kiss her, and being roughly shoved away from her by the bouncers. Alec saw Eliot's hand tighten on the bar, knuckles whitening. The pictures cut out then, and Sonia made as if to get up.

"Just listen," Nate said.

The audio from the bug began, Sanderson's voice clear over the speakers.

"Yes, I'm there now. I think we need to be a bit more convincing. Tomorrow night, I think there needs to be a fire at Hades. Let it live up to its name. And get that bitch Jamie when she comes into work. Lets see if having another one of her dancers out of commission convinces the owner to change her mind. No one says no to me and gets away with it."

There was more, but Sonia snapped

"Enough. Enough!"

Nate nodded and Alec pressed stop. That was the most damning bit anyway. Tish had already sent one of the bouncers to sit with Jamie, just in case.

"That's _real_," Sonia sounded wrecked. "That's _Mark_."

"It's real." Sophie said. She touched her arm. "I'm so sorry, but you see, he is determined to get this club, and-"

"I have to go," Sonia said, breaking away and running out of the door.

"Well, that went well," Sophie said.

"Just wait," Nate said calmly.

***

Alec spent the next hour dismantling the bugs and cameras, helped by Eliot, who was moving kind of awkwardly.

"You ok," Alec asked as he stood on a chair to reach the camera over the bar. "You seem kind of stiff."

"I'm fine," Eliot grunted. He still had glitter in his hair, Alec noticed. Little flecks of lilac against the brown.

"I mean, you say the word and I'll give you a rub-down," Alec said, concentrating on unscrewing the camera housing.

In the five seconds of silence that followed, Alec cursed himself for letting his mouth run away with him. Sophie had said it was a problem, and now it was about to get him beaten up, never mind that Eliot had basically given him a lapdance the night before.

Then-

"Wouldn't say no," Eliot muttered, with that little smirk.

Holy shit. _Holy shit_.

Before Alec could adequately process that beyond a mental fistpump, the door to the bar burst open and Sanderson stormed in.

"Where the fuck is she?" he bellowed. "Where's that bitch?"

Alec jumped down from the chair as Eliot strode over, but Tish was already coming out of the office.

"You!" Sanderson yelled. "You know what my wife just did? Froze the accounts!"

"Mr Sanderson," Nate began, coming over.

"Don't know who the fuck you are, but this is between me and her," Sanderson said. He grabbed Tish and shook her. She struggled but he gripped tight, and then he produced a knife and held the point to her throat.

"What did you do? What did you tell her?"

Eliot reached him in three strides and tapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey," he said. Then he punched him.

Sanderson let Tish go, and she slumped against the bar. He took a swing at Eliot with the knife, but he ducked it easily. Eliot punched him in the gut, and then caught up Parker's uneaten pie and smashed it into Sanderson's face. He dropped the knife, spluttering, and Eliot scooped it up and handed it to Tish.

"Enough," he growled, twisting Sanderson's arms up behind his back and bending him over the bar. "One more move and I break something."

"Seriously? _Seriously?"_ Alec asked the room at large. "Pie? In the face?"

"Workedm didn't it?" Eliot asked. Sanderson spat out some pie and yelled. "This is assault! I'll sue!"

"Mr Sanderson," Nate said, crouching down to glare at him. "The security cameras have caught you attacking a bar owner, unprovoked. They also caught you assaulting a dancer last night. And we have you recorded planning an arson attack on this establishment. Trust me, some pie in the face is the _least _ of your worries.

"And affording a lawyer without your wife's accounts is going to be tough," Sophie said triumphantly.

"I have other accounts," Sanderson began.

"Um." Alec raised his hand. "Actually, your wife was named on all of them, for tax reasons? I may have accidentally emailed her all the details. So, right now, I would guess you're out of luck."

"Nice," Eliot grinned.

Alec nodded happily.

"Hey!" Parker said, coming out from the dancer's dressing rooms. "What happened to my lunch?"

***

Later, after the cops had carted away a spitting mad Sanderson still covered in green pie filling, Tish poured them all a drink. Nate had orange juice and tried to look as if he liked it.

"Thanks, all of you," she said, raising her glass. "The cops said he'd be looking at jail time."

"They'll get him on the assault because they can't get him on the other charges," Nate said.

"And Sonia's angry enough to testify," Sophie said. "Woman scorned, always a good bet."

"I can't say thank you enough," Tish said.

"It's what we do," Parker said. "Besides, this job had... compensations."

Alec knew exactly what she meant.

"Oh, hey," Eliot said. He pulled a roll of bills out his pocket. "My tips from last night." He counted out the bills onto the bar. His hand lingered on on $10, and Alec noticed it was folded into quarters. It was his ten.

Eliot tucked it back into his pocket, and pushed the rest across to Tish.

"$300? You sure you don't want a job? You were great for my takings," she smiled. Parker and Sophie both seemed to be trying not to laugh.

Eliot shook his head.

"I'll stick to what I'm good at," he said.

Sophie pouted a little in fake-disappointment.

 

***

McRory's was bustling around them, but they were part of the scene enough to be ignored now. Eliot had finally gotten rid of most of the glitter, but he'd kept the braids. He still smelled of jasmine.

"So," Alec said casually, trying to remember that yes, Eliot could break him in two with very little effort, but he has also _saved his ten dollar bill_ and that had to mean something. "No more dancing, huh?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah," Eliot said. He took a pull of his beer and put it down, his hand brushing Alec's as he did so. "I don't like big audiences."

He still hadn't moved his hand. Alec took his life in his and said,

"How do you feel about an audience of one?"

"I can work with that. Seem to remember someone promised me a rubdown, though."

And _there_ was the smirk.

Alec drained his drink and tossed some bills on the bar.

"Lets get out of here, and I'll rub anything you want."

It wasn't til Eliot had him pinned against the wall of the bedroom, kissing him and moving in a really interesting way, that he remembered Parker's little wink as they left the bar.

"Hey," he said, breaking off from kissing down Eliot's neck. They'd lost their shirts somewhere between the living room and the bedroom, and Eliot's appreciative stare made all that work in the gym worthwhile. "How d'you feel about maybe increasing that audience to two one day?"

Eliot chuckled, hoarse and dirty, and his voice had been distracting before, but now Alec knew it would be giving him really inappropriate erections for ever.

"I'm guessing you can convince me," he said, "now how about that rubdown?"

"Anything you say," Alec said, tangling his hands in Eliot's hair for another long, dirty kiss.

Later, he realised he'd basically given Eliot free reign to order him about. But, he decided as Eliot shimmied down his body to lick him clean, if it mean he got orgasms like _that_, well, he could probably live with it.


End file.
